


Little Voices

by mysticanni (vodkaandlime)



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Case Fic, Falling In Love, Hearing Voices, High Chance of Medical Inaccuracies, Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues, M/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkaandlime/pseuds/mysticanni
Summary: The team have a patient who insists she has a brain tumour despite having no symptoms that would indicate that.The case brings House and Chase closer.
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Little Voices

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing for this fandom. I hope this is an acceptable offering.

House limped into the room and Chase looked determinedly at his crossword, sucking the top of his pen, a gesture he found soothing. His usual mantra of – he’s your boss – he’s your boss – he’s your boss – drummed through his head. He’s your boss and your crush on him is pathetic. As House announced triumphantly that they had a case he was unable to stop his eyes flickering towards him. “The patient has no symptoms!” House declared – his intense gaze sweeping over Chase, Cameron and Foreman as if daring them – as if he was challenging them to a duel. 

“Don’t we call those people with no symptoms...gee, I don’t know...healthy?” Foreman sneered. 

“The little voice in the patient’s head says they are very sick,” House confided in them.

“Um...Isn’t the little voice in the patient’s head a symptom?” Chase volunteered. He set his newspaper, neatly folded to the crossword, on the table in front of him but slipped the pen back into his mouth. 

“The patient sounds like they need some nice anti-psychotic drugs,” Foreman suggested, rolling his eyes. 

“The patient was prescribed some nice anti-psychotic drugs,” House nodded, “and at first the little voice shut up. Then, while the patient was still taking her nice drugs, the little voice returned and told her she needed a brain scan.”

“So, the patient stopped taking the drugs and is lying about it,” Foreman scoffed. 

“Except I don’t think she is,” House said. “She’ll be lying about something but I think she’s telling the truth about keeping taking the drugs.”

Foreman sighed heavily. “This is a complete waste of our time,” he warned House. 

Chase removed the pen from his mouth with a pop. “Can’t we just give her a brain scan?” he suggested. 

“Sure, rich boy, let’s waste expensive resources on this fantasy,” Foreman snapped, shooting a withering look at Chase, who shrugged. 

Chase glanced at House, curious about his interest in this patient. “Has the helpful little voice told her why she needs a brain scan?” he wondered.

“Yup,” House confirmed, “The little voice says she has a brain tumour and we should also look for brain stem inflammation.”

“But she has no symptoms?” Foreman clarified, “That’s not possible. If she had a brain tumour she’d have symptoms – a headache at the very least but most likely other symptoms too.” 

Cameron nodded her agreement. “Foreman’s right. If she has a tumour she should have lots of symptoms.”

“That’s what makes it so interesting,” House beamed. “She has a little diagnostic voice inside her head.”

Foreman shook his head slowly, looking disgusted. “She hasn’t been taking her drugs, end of story,” he muttered. 

Chase considered the diagnostic nature of the auditory hallucinations. “Does the patient have a background in medicine?” he asked. Was this the sort of thing that happened when a doctor became ill? 

“Nope,” House shook his head. “Go and talk to her,” he commanded them, “bombard the poor woman and her little voice with questions.” He made a shooing gesture with his hands until they all scraped back their chairs and trailed out of the room. 

Foreman was grumbling about what a waste of time the case was – Chase thought “case” was in definite inverted commas when Foreman said it – as they walked towards the patient’s room. “This is unethical,” he muttered, “House is encouraging the patient’s belief that her auditory hallucinations are real.”

Chase thought that what the patient was hearing would seem very real to her. His mind drifted back to when he had been in the seminary and the strange experience he had there which he had long ago explained away as having been induced by stress. But what if there were less easily explained more other-worldly or spiritual reasons for hearing voices no one else could hear? What if a benevolent little voice was telling this woman that she was ill? Chase had no intention of sharing this idea with the others. He could imagine the ridicule they would heap on him all too easily. 

Cameron remarked that House must see something more to the case than they could see at the moment and Chase reflected that was what House did – he saw the things everyone else missed.

*

The patient was not what Foreman had expected. He had formed the impression that they would be dealing with a long-haired dreamy-eyed idealistic hippy “open to new experiences” and who would misquote Shakespeare – “there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

So he was surprised to find a short-haired woman briskly giving the meek looking man at the bedside brisk instructions about when to feed the cat and which after-school activities he would have to take Luke too. Foreman assumed that Luke was their son. Her sharp eyes coolly surveyed them. “Who are you?” she demanded.

Cameron explained in soothing tones that they worked with Dr. House and would like to ask her a few questions.

*

Their patient was Jane Fuller and she was an accountant. Foreman had been correct – the meek man by the bed was her husband Michael and they had a son, Luke, who was nine. 

The first time Jane had heard the voice she had been at home doing laundry. The voice had told her not to be afraid. It told her it would like to help her as she was unwell. The voice had told her that to prove it’s sincerity it would tell her three things that she should investigate.

The first of the three things regarded her lost bracelet which the voice told her was under the bedside table in her room which proved true. The second thing was that her sister would soon announce that she was pregnant which happened later that day. And finally, the little voice told her that when her son arrived home from school he would have a cut knee from where he had fallen while playing at break time earlier that day. This also proved true.

“It didn’t prove anything of course,” Jane said, “There were only so many places the bracelet could have been. I spend a lot of time with my sister so it would hardly be surprising if I’d subconsciously picked up on signs she was pregnant. And my son falls and cuts himself all the time.” She ran her hand through her short hair. “Naturally I assumed I was going crazy.”

At first she had put it down to stress or tiredness or perhaps both. She had hoped it would be a one-off occurrence. However, the voice kept coming back. It was always reassuring – always telling her it had her best interests at heart. It kept urging her to see the doctor as she was unwell and needed help. “Well, that certainly seemed to be true,” Jane told them, “so I made an appointment and explained to my doctor that I was hearing this voice.”

Jane’s doctor had recommended counselling and had prescribed an anti-psychotic drug for her to take. “And it worked,” she told them, “I took the pills and the little voice vanished. It was wonderful. To celebrate Michael and I took some time off work and booked a vacation.”

Jane had been soaking up the sun by a dazzling turquoise swimming pool when the little voice had re-appeared. It had told her that she needed to go home immediately. The voice had said there was something very wrong and she was in need of urgent medical treatment.

“I was so upset,” she sighed, “I had been taking the pills and they had been working and I thought that was it, you know? The voice had gone. But now it was back. It ruined the rest of our break.”

Once Jane had returned home the voice began to urge her to go to hospital and have a brain scan. It stipulated that the scan was required to look for a tumour and an inflamed brain stem. 

Jane had returned to her doctor first of all to explain that the drugs no longer seemed to be working. “He checked and said I had no physical symptoms that would suggest a brain tumour,” Jane said. 

The voice had then started urging her to go to the hospital. “It specified this hospital and then it began to tell me to ask to see Dr. House,” she explained. “I’d never heard of Dr. House before.” She sighed. “I expect I’m wasting everyone’s time but the voice is so insistent and sometimes it calms down a little when I am following the instructions it gives me.” She shrugged. “So here I am.” 

*

“She has no symptoms,” Foreman declared as they returned to House.

“I’m pretty sure I told you that when we took the case,” House said giving Foreman an exaggerated confused look.

“She must be lying about having taken the drugs,” Foreman stated. 

“I don’t think she is,” Chase announced. He genuinely did think she was telling the truth about taking the medication but part of him also found a certain satisfaction in disagreeing with Foreman, who glared at him. “I still think we should just give her a brain scan.” This resulted in Foreman snorting. “A tumour could be causing her one symptom,” Chase noted. 

Cameron sighed. “I think she is very plausible,” she said, casting an apologetic glance at Chase, “but she has no symptoms that would warrant us giving her a brain scan.”

Foreman nodded. “If she has a brain tumour she should have a headache and other symptoms such as seizures or difficulty walking or visual disturbances or speech problems or nausea. Her only symptom should not be a little voice in her head.”

“So,” House twirled his cane, “Brain scan it is!”

*

“This shouldn’t be possible!” Foreman huffed, throwing himself into a chair.

House was straddling a chair as they entered. He dry swallowed a couple of pills. “Was the little voice right?”

“She has a large meningioma tumour,” Foreman admitted. “With no symptoms,” he marvelled. 

“How large,” House wondered. 

“Large enough that she should have been exhibiting symptoms,” Cameron told him.

“Since she isn’t exhibiting any symptoms I’ve covered the pros and cons of waiting until she does before doing anything or having surgery to remove the tumour now,” Foreman informed House.

“The little voice has instructed her to have surgery now,” Chase told him feeling House would appreciate this.

House laughed. “Of course it has! And that will be what she does, I expect.” His piercing eyes sought out Chase. “A sign from God, do you think, wombat?” he asked. 

Chase flushed. “A tumour that size must have been causing some disruption,” he noted, trying to pick his words carefully, “and I think that maybe although she hasn’t noticed any symptoms her subconscious might have realised what was going on and the little voice was her way of acknowledging something was wrong.”

“But really you think it was a message from God,” House suggested. 

*

Once the tumour had been removed Jane told Chase that the little voice had told her it was glad she had received treatment and would now bid her farewell. Chase had smiled uncomfortably at her. He told himself it was probably just confusion as she came round from the anaesthetic that had caused this last message from the little voice. But part of him wondered. House was correct – he did wonder if there was something spiritual or supernatural about the voice Jane had heard. 

Only House was in the office when he returned from seeing Jane. It was late and he shrugged on his coat ready to go home. House limped out of his office. “What did she say?” he asked. 

Chase hesitated then told House what Jane had said about the voice saying goodbye. He fiddled with the buttons on his jacket so he could avoid looking at House. 

“How does that fit your theory that the tumour caused the little voice?” House mocked him. 

“She heard what she wanted to hear when she was still groggy from the anaesthetic,” Chase said, surprised by how calm he sounded. House seemed very close to him now. Chase was very aware of him. 

“Have you ever heard of an auditory hallucination that wished someone well, tried to reassure them they were real and gave them a correct and specific diagnosis then directed them to a particular doctor?” House asked. 

Chase shook his head. “It’s odd,” he said simply then grinned at the inadequacy of this. “What do you think?” he asked, genuinely curious about the answer. 

He was surprised when instead of answering him House leaned even closer and pressed his lips to Chase’s. It was a chaste kiss at first then Chase responded hungrily. He gave a little gasp as they broke apart. 

“A little voice told me to,” House said. 

“What else is the little voice telling you to do?” Chase whispered. 

House responded by kissing him again. “The little voice seems to have gone,” House murmured, “but I now seem to be locked in a certain pattern of behaviour.” 

Chase considered this briefly then kissed House. “I expect as long as the pattern of behaviour isn’t harmful it doesn’t matter if it continues,” he suggested. The air felt charged. House ran a hand through Chase’s hair and he half expected sparks to fly. 

“It might be very harmful,” House warned him.

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Chase assured him.

“I think the little voice is not easy to explain,” House murmured, “and I think you might have had a similar experience to Jane’s?”

It crossed Chase’s mind that kissing him might be a means to an end. Would House do that just to extract a confession from him? Probably, but Chase wasn’t sure he cared. “Yes,” he agreed, “I heard a voice telling me to quit the seminary and go to medical school.”

House kissed him again. “Did you have a vision of a sexy nun?” He considered this, “Or perhaps a sexy nurse?”

“Nope, just the voice,” Chase told him. “It said: this is not your path. Healing is your path.”

“And did you find that helpful?” House queried with a sarcastic inflection.

Chase laughed. “Not really, no. It wasn’t crystal clear, either. Did it mean I was to heal others or heal myself?” He halted, suddenly concerned that he was revealing too much here. His stomach lurched and he braced himself for a mocking response from House.

House brushed his fingers along Chase’s cheek. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he breathed. 

“Why now?” Chase wondered. 

“Maybe it’s divine intervention,” House suggested. “I don’t know. I just know that when you were willing to believe – to take a chance on the unknown being right – I knew I had to have you.”

Chase noted that House had apparently not been concerned about whether or not his feelings would be reciprocated. Perhaps he was embarrassingly obvious. He pushed the thought away, deciding it didn’t matter. “This is a very bad idea, isn’t it, considering you’re my boss?”

House shrugged. “You were willing to take a risk a minute ago.”

Chase laughed again. “I still am.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an actual case because inventing a case would be totally beyond me. 
> 
> I'd love to know what you thought? :)


End file.
